


The Painter

by sleeplesspensieve



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Divergence - Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, F/M, Painting, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 05:42:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15700980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleeplesspensieve/pseuds/sleeplesspensieve
Summary: Wrote this for Snapeloveposts Snape Fest on Tumblr, not sure what to tag this all.Cleo Blackwater is a Portrait Painter and is commissioned to paint the latest Headmaster's painting.





	The Painter

_ Ship: Severus Snape x Cleo Blackwater (OC) _

_ Word Count: 4721 _

_ Warning(s): Smut, a little bit dub-con and death (canon) _

_ Writing Prompt: Snape takes on a lover to relieve stress during his brief time as headmaster. Perhaps he had resigned himself to likely dying in the war ahead, but after a period of time with this person he realizes he may actually want to live. He fights harder/learns to love someone besides Lily/makes greater sacrifices/etc. _

_ Author’s Note: Lowkey I feel like I rushed the ending, I was a lot more into the build up and smut than the end but I hope you enjoyed it. _

“Headmaster Snape, I’m here to do your portrait.”

The witch’s voice wavered as she spoke to the unmoving gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster’s office. She felt great uncertainty as she stood there waiting. How would her old Professor react to her? How would she react?

Nearly 10 years had passed since Cleo Blackwater walked these familiar halls for the last time. The air felt different,almost as though all the magic and wonder had been drained from the school. On her journey she passed familiar faces of Professors and students that should’ve been excited and bright to face the school year just as she had been but instead they wore grim expressions. Each person looked away from her, their eyes shot downwards. Not a single soul even spoke a word of greeting to her or their fellow students.

To a degree it didn’t surprise her given the times but it still sat poorly with her. She had heard the whisperings of the Dark Lord’s return two years ago which she dismissed. She regretted that choice, wishing she had fled when she had the time to. Maybe then she wouldn’t have lost her family or friends. Now that they were gone she had no real desire to stay or go.

In a way she was thankful that she wasn’t either a renowned witch or gifted at duelling. Her only real talent was art, in particular portrait painting, it had peaked her interest when she was a young girl. She had seen so many of these life-like paintings and she aspired to be the creator of many portraits with the ultimate goal to one day create a Headmaster’s portrait.

All of which lead her here, to this day where she stood nervously waiting for the gargoyle to opens its wings and allow her entry to the office. She could’ve sworn in her letter they had agreed for 9am. As she glanced down at her watch to confirm that she had been on time the gargoyle sprung to life. Quickly, she moved onto the staircase with her art equipment in tow and began her ascent.

Cleo’s face was filled with wonder as her eyes darted around the room, absorbing the images of the fallen Professor’s. She noticed the presence of one new portrait, Albus Dumbledore, who was sleeping in his frame. A twinge of guilt was felt by the woman as she realised that she would be painting his murderer.

The dark wizard sat where Albus used to sit appearing preoccupied with paper work. Hesitantly, she climbed the steps to the desk and stood in front of the man. She waited for him to address her first but his head remained focused on whatever lay in front of him. His eyes unmoving, coldly he asked, “Well?”

“I’m here for your portrait, Headmaster,” she said. Cleo was holding her belongings in front of herself, sheepishly, as though she were attempting to hide from him.

He looked up, a bored expression on his face. “I know this, do you need permission to start?”

“No, sir,” a blush formed on her cheeks. Her palms sweaty from nervousness. “I, um, need you to pose for me while I get a sketch.”

“How long will this take?” he asked impatiently.

“I expect it will take several sessions for me to complete it.”

He rolled his eyes, “I expect no less from a slow Hufflepuff like you, Miss Blackwater.”

She swallowed hard in attempt to keep tears from bursting out as she recalled her school days. If anything, the Headmaster was more intimidating and her knowledge of his allegiance with the Death Eaters terrified her. She tried to stand her ground but she had no comeback for the wizard’s words.

He gritted his teeth, “Where would you like me?”

“Um,” she stumbled on her words, “Anywhere you like, Professor. Would you like to be sitting or standing?”

“Standing.”

“What would you like the scene to be?” His eyebrows raised in response. She went on to explain, “Some prefer a plain background, others like books or trees.”

“In front of the window.”

“Could you move there so I could draw it?”

He stood and walked up the stairs to the viewing platform. Cleo followed him and he stood to face her. “Is this good?”

She gave a small nod and pulled out her easel, setting it up in front of the Professor. After placing her canvas she quietly began her sketch. She began with just a basic outline, rough lines to position him in the forefront of the image before marking the placement of his features. 

The man watched her carefully as her head would peep out from behind the easel every so often. He became abnormally self conscious as her eyes scrutinised his face, all he could think about was how much he hated his hooked nose and greasy hair that he had been teased about all too often as a young. Eventually her eyes were drawn to the window and they’d dart between the glass panes to his face, analysing how the light fell on his cheeks. He began to feel uncertain as to whether he had chosen the correct location for his portrait, surely the light would just draw out the sallownesss of his skin and emphasise his nose.

His overthinking was disturbed as he heard the shifting of the stairs. He exhaled sharply in annoyance as he watched one of his fellow Death Eaters emerge from the the entrance. Cleo’s eyes were drawn to the woman who entered and her eyes returned to her subject.

“Excuse me,” he said, “We’ll have to continue this another time.”

She nodded and quickly packed her things, allowing the Headmaster to speak freely with his associate.

~

Cleo returned a week later to resume the portrait, Professor Snape wasn’t needed at this stage so he continued to work as she painted the background by hand. After several hours of work she found the backdrop of the image completed and agreed to meet Severus again in a week’s time. When she returned, the Headmaster joined her at the top of the stairs and she began to capture his essence with the use of a magical paintbrush that took direction from her wand. 

“Don’t you wish to smile slightly, Professor?” she asked as she began to capture his image.

“What joy is there to be had during these times?” he asked in return.

She shrugged, “I never saw you smile during my years at Hogwarts, surely then there were times.”

“No,” he said firmly.

The girl remained silent for the duration of their session together. The wizard found that he tired quickly of standing and dismissed her. Their meetings became a regular occurrence, Cleo would be allowed to work for an hour or so before the man’s patience would fade. During that hour neither would speak a word, but Cleo found herself admiring the man as she focused on illustrating his face.

“Ah, sir,” she asked in a questioning tone. He raised his eyebrows to acknowledge her. “Could you just look to the other side for a second?” The wizard turned his head slowly to the other side. “Sorry, do you mind just brushing your hair aside?”

He pushed it back slightly but the painter approached him and tucked his hair behind his ear then tilted his jaw forward slightly with her fingers. “Sorry, I just want to get the details right.”

Severus didn’t reply, he kept his eyes focused away from the painter as she had directed. His thoughts didn’t drift onto how awful he must’ve looked, instead his mind dwelled on the delicate touch she had laid on the side of his face. It was so nice and caring. He had forgotten what the touch of a woman felt like. His eyes moved away and he watched her, the attentiveness she had to her painting. He wondered if she was doing it justice.

“How many have you painted before?” he asked.

“Several,” she answered, her eyes darting between the canvas and his face. “I enjoyed sketching from when I was a child, I took a particular interest in people then when I learnt magic I learnt how to enchant it. I’ve never done anyone important before, I will admit that I am quite nervous.”

The conversation ended there but Severus found himself able to tolerate more time standing as he began to observe the girl in the same manner that she was observing him. Her curly light brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, her blue eyes darting between the canvas and his face. He admired those with passion and it was obvious to him that she had it for her art. He felt as though a crush was forming on his former student but he dismissed it. There was no use in indulging the possibility of a relationship, he had a part to play in the war that was unfolding and he had resigned himself  to the fact that he would die.

His mind did not play with the idea of a relationship but he did admire the beauty of the woman who was focused on his face. It amused him to see her furrow her brow and tilt her head as she waved her wand. After an hour and a half passed she asked, “Aren’t you tired, Professor?”

He shook his head, “No, you may continue.”

She exhaled a laugh, “Well I’m done for today but I still need a couple more sessions so I can capture your personality better, as well as your voice and then I’ll instruct you on how to teach it.”

“May I see?” he asked.

The question took her by surprise, he hadn’t showed any interest in the progress of the portrait so far. She stepped aside to indicate that he was welcome to come and inspect her work. He walked over and looked at it, instantly he was floored. The detail in the painting made it look almost as though it was a photograph yet somehow she had made the things he was self conscious about look much better than they were in real life. His skin didn’t look sallow, it looked healthy and his nose was still a dominant feature but it made him look both striking and masculine.

His silence unnerved her, “Is it ok?” she asked, “If you don’t like it I’m happy to paint it again, I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

He rested a hand on her shoulder and shook his head, “No, it’s good.”

The girl was speechless when she realised  _ the  _ Severus Snape, the most cruel and demeaning teacher had actually complimented her work. He was even touching her affectionately. Her face flushed and all the breath felt drained out of her body by the spark she felt that she couldn’t even spit out a word of thanks. 

“I’ll see you next week, same time?” he asked.

She nodded and packed her things.

~

The next time Cleo Blackwater saw Severus Snape his face was looking particularly worn. It concerned her that the subject of her painting was looking stressed, almost as though the weight of the world was on his shoulder. The reason for her concern was not from an art stand point, although it was relevant, but because over the past few days she found herself thinking about her ex-potions teacher far too often. She had been looking forward to this day, excited to stare at her new crush for a little while longer.

“Are you ready for today, Professor?” she asked.

He tilted his head slightly, “More or less.”

“We don’t have to finish today,” she said, “We could reschedule.”

He sighed and stood, “It’s fine.”

“Sorry,” she said, her eyes downcast, “If I try to capture you when you’re like this it might ruin the integrity of your portrait.”

“Like this?”

“You seem stressed, is everything alright, Professor?”

“You look at the state of Wizarding Britain and tell me everything is fine,” he snapped, “Of course I’m stressed.”

Cleo’s eyes returned to the floor, intimidated by his outburst. The witch was unsure of she should say or do, scared that the next thing she would say would send him spiralling. Instead she stood there quietly.

Severus’ emotions burned a hole through him, the pent up rage had slipped slightly. He couldn’t allow that to happen. His emotions needed to remain in check if he was to continue his mission but the mere thought of his duty angered him. He had spent days speaking with the portraits in an attempt to locate Harry Potter and fulfil his promise to the Headmaster. Not only that but he had to try and keep a leash on the Carrow siblings who were unleashing terror on every student. He had every right to be upset but his outburst wasn’t warranted. How would he be able to keep his cool around the Dark Lord if he couldn’t even manage to in front of an ex-student?

“My anger towards you was unwarranted and I apologise,” he said.

She nodded, afraid to speak a word out of turn.

“I’m not sure if I will be in a better mood anytime in the future.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

The witch’s compassion floored him. He was stunned that after his treatment of her that she would still be willing to offer him a small comfort. He felt his mouth twitch slightly almost as though a half smile wanted to form across his lips. “That isn’t necessary,” he said, “If you are unable to paint today then maybe next week. I will try to be in a better mindset.”

~

The next week rolled around and the Headmaster was nervous about their meeting. Things weren’t any easier but he attempted to push those stresses aside for the time being so he could enjoy the time he spent with Cleo. He found that he regretted the lack of portrait painting last week, it seemed to be the only break from his work that he was able to be himself and less of the double agent that he was playing.

Cleo arrived on time and she was happy to see that he didn’t seem as stressed so she willingly resumed her artwork. Severus remained at his desk this time, pretending to focus on the papers on his desk but his eyes lingered on the artist who was capturing him. The witch found herself getting flushed as she focused on the finer details of his face, her head imagining what it would be like to kiss his lips and she painted highlights on his mouth.

“Um, sir,” she said aloud, sheepishly. “I need you to talk a bit.”

“Why?”

“I need to capture your voice.”

“What should I talk about?” he asked.

“Anything,” she shrugged, “Maybe if you’re not comfortable you could grab a book and just read it?”

He nodded, liking the idea he grabbed the one that sat open on his desk and began to read. Occasionally his eyes would dart up and look at her, watching her enchant the painting.

Cleo’s face had turned pink from focusing on the sound of her ex-Professor’s voice. She somehow maintained her focus on casting the imprint of his voice and after about 20 minutes of reading she was done. Severus noticed that her hands had stopped moving and abruptly stopped in the middle of a sentence.

“Is it finished?” he asked, approaching the canvas.

She nodded and stepped back allowing him to look.

“Hello,” the Headmaster said.

“Hello,” the portrait echoed in the same tone.

“You can teach it things,” she commented, “I’ve tried to impart as much as I know about your mannerisms but you can just verbally tell it to change if you don’t like how I’ve done it. There is no limit to the knowledge it can hold, many other Headmasters instruct their paintings on how to coach future Headmasters so if you ever get stuck with your portrait the others should be able to guide you.”

“So, that’s it?”

“Pretty much,” she shrugged.

“Thank you for your time,” he said.

She nodded and began to pack her things. The Headmaster observed, still standing near the easel feeling rather awkward. He debated for a second on whether he should return to his desk and allow her to leave for good or whether he should be daring and ask her to stay.

“Cleo,” he addressed the girl.

“Sir,” she replied, pausing her packing and blushing a bit. He had never called her by her first name before and oh how perfect did it sound from those lips. 

“Will you return?”

“Why?” she became nervous, “Is there something wrong with the painting? I can fix it now.”

“No,” he said as he closed distance between them. He convinced himself that he had nothing to lose and with the quick use of legilimens he found that his offer would be more than likely successful. “I have come to enjoy your company and I would like to extend an invitation for you to return weekly.”

“For what, Professor?”

His eyes looked lustfully into her blue ones and he leaned in to kiss her. She was shocked at the gesture so much that the case that she held in her hands slipped out and crashed on the floor. Cleo kissed back, filled with desire before parting and looking at him longingly.

“I need someone to keep me company,” he said.

“I understand,” she replied before kissing him once more. Her nervousness had faded, instead stood a sensual woman, willing to take care of the man she wanted.

It had been so long since either had been intimate with anyone, their hands were desperate for human touch. Cleo’s fingers quickly made work of the layers of buttons on his clothing while her lips were still pressed on his. Once the top layers had been discarded, Severus’ stripped her down to her underwear with a quick tug of a zipper and a shrug of her shoulders her dress pooled on the floor.

He guided her to his desk whilst his hands gripped her thighs, encouraging her to sit on the desk. Leaning back, Cleo’s eyes caught his and she noticed his dilated pupils roaming her body, taking in every inch of her body before reaching around her back and unclasping her bra in one swift movement. With her breasts free, Severus’ hands groped and teased them, flicking her nipples occasionally between his thumb and index finger.

His erection was obvious despite being hiding beneath his dark pants. He was aching to release it and to plunge into her but he was patient. It may have been a long time since the last woman he had but he knew how to please one. 

Cleo’s hand was now wandering his torso whilst the other kept her propped up as she began to cave in to the arousal from the stimulation of her nipples. Heat was growing in her core and between her legs. Lustfully, her hand glided down his bare chest and over his pants to the tent. She felt her face flush as she felt the evidence of his desire, her thoughts beginning to wander to the future when he would bury himself deep inside her.

Eagerly, her fingers undid the front of his trousers and wrapped around the waistband of both his pants and underwear, freeing his cock from the confines of the materials. Severus eyes were focused on her face as she looked down and subconsciously licked her lips at the sight of his member. Cleo felt her pussy twinge in excitement at the prospect of his entry.

“Do you want me?” he asked. One hand abandoned her breast and cupped her sex. 

She nodded furiously as a finger outlined her slit, her hips desperately edged towards his touch wanting more friction. A knowing smirk crossed his lips as his fingers hooked around her underwear and pulled them down her legs. She was now completely naked, splayed on the Headmaster’s desk. The thought embarrassed her, her cheeks turned pink once more and her legs shut in an attempt to maintain some dignity.

“No need to be shy,” he said before kissing her once more.

The kiss soothed her, her body relaxing into his touch. Gently, he coaxed her legs apart and his fingers dipped between the folds, ensuring that she was fully aroused before attempting to proceed. A small moan escaped from her lips as his finger brushed against her clitoris and another came when a digit entered her.

Merlin’s beard, she was tight. Her eyes closed as she focused on the feeling, Severus’ greedily watched her. He was no longer in any rush to stick his cock in, the responses he was getting was getting were much too amusing. Slowly, he pumped in and out then adding another digit as she surrendered to him. He curled his fingers upwards and more moans fell from her lips.

Cleo’s hips bucked up into his hand as his pace sped up. She was panting, feeling completely breathless, as she neared her orgasm. Her eyes squeezed tighter as she focused on the feeling, those thick calloused fingers entering in and out. She gripped tightly onto his free forearm to hold herself up and a light scream escaped her as her climax ripped through her.

She clutched onto him tightly as she rode her orgasm out, her head resting on his bicep. His fingers slid out and he began to stroke his cock at the fresh memory of her orgasm. Once she had steadied herself, her legs spread once more, this time of her own accord. Her fingers replaced his on his shaft and she encouraged him to slide himself into her pussy.

Severus released a deep groan as he felt the slippery heat of her cunt wrap around his hardened member. It took all his self control not to fuck her stupid against his desk in that moment. He didn’t need to embarrass himself by ejaculating mere minutes into their copulation. Instead, he started off slow, allowing her pussy to take him in at a relaxed pace. Once she had fully sheathed him he pulled out steadily.

He repeated the pace for a few minutes in an attempt to stave off his orgasm and enjoy her touch but soon enough Cleo was begging for him to speed up. “Please, Professor.”

“Say my name,” he demanded.

“Severus, please.”

Those words awoke something dark in the wizard as he recalled two of his friends final words. Anger over took him and he picked up the pace, pounding hard and fast into the witch. She lost her grip on him and she fell backwards slightly, her back and head hit the table. A small “ow” escaped her but Severus kept going, consumed by his body’s desires.

With a deep groan Severus came, spilling his seed inside the girl. He slid out of her and pulled his pants back on before fetching a contraceptive potion he had nearby. He passed it to the girl as she was redressing herself. He noticed that she was somewhat shaken by the experience and the gravity of what he had done hit him.

“Cleo?” he asked softly, “Are you ok?”

“Yeah,” she said as she returned the empty bottle to him. “It’s just a bit weird, isn’t it? I used to be your student.”

“I should’ve made sure you were ok,” he admonished himself. 

She smiled sweetly at the Headmaster and shrugged it off, “It’s fine.”

The witch approached him as he was fastening the buttons on the top, she took over from his hands and he watched her small display of kindness. “Are you ok?” she asked.

He was taken aback by her question. No one had asked him that in years, that’s if anyone had ever asked him. He couldn’t recall. He stood there blank for a few moments, unsure of what to say to the kind girl who was dressing him. If only she knew the burden he had on his shoulders but it seemed as though she knew.

She gave him a sympathetic smile and embraced him, to her words were unnecessary. Cleo just knew what he needed. She gathered her things and said, “I’ll see you next week.”

~

Their affair continued, every week they would sleep with one another. Occasionally they would exchange words but neither ever pressured the other to reveal any information about their lives. That bit came naturally. Of course, Severus knew he couldn’t unveil the whole truth but he found relief in the girl, be it her listening ears or her her body’s warmth.

Cleo knew she was falling for him, well before he knew he was falling for her. They never mentioned it to one another. They were both too afraid of exposing themselves to the possibility, particularly during these times. Instead their love remained unspoken but their hearts belonged to one another.

Severus love for the witch deepened with each moment spent with her in their throes of passion and moments of confession. In his heart, he no longer wished to die. His mind had been playing with the possibility of a future with her and his heart sung at the prospect. He gazed into her eyes and knew she felt it too.

Once more in his life Severus felt genuine fear. He feared losing her, loving her and he feared dying for if he died he would have no future with the witch but it gave him a reason to fight. He knew that if he died even to protect her future that it would all be worth it. He didn’t truly believe he deserved her but he loved her all the same. 

~

Cleo didn’t know that the last time would be the last. News of the climax of the Wizarding War spread like wildfire and in amongst the names of the deceased was  _ Severus Snape _ . She didn’t believe it when she read it. Over and over her eyes reread the name printed in  _ The Daily Prophet _ before it hit her like a tonne of bricks and tears spilled from her cheeks. Her heart had been ripped out and all she could think of was how she wished she could’ve told him that she loved him.

She attended the mass funeral that was held for all those that had died. Everyone cried with her but despite how full the cathedral hall was, the girl had never felt so alone. No one knew what they had shared, all that she had left were her memories. 

As she walked up to the altar where they had his casket open she felt her heart break again at the sight of his cold, lifeless body lay there. She couldn’t move once she saw him, she was frozen to the spot and tears spilled freely as she mourned and grieved the love she had. 

A hand coaxed her away and guided her to a seat. Cleo wiped her tears away and noticed her old Transfiguration Professor sat beside her. Minerva offered her the comfort of a mother-like embrace as she too mourned her colleague.

~

Months later, Cleo found herself returning to Hogwarts once more. She found herself filled with melancholy and sadness as she passed through the corridors but it was hard to allow her feelings to hold her down. As she walked through the familiar hallways, Cleo was greeted by her old teachers and students were bustling around, smiling and laughing. A faint smile grew on her face as she felt the magic of Hogwarts fill the air.

This time around as she stood in front of the gargoyle she was confident as she spoke. “I’m here to see Headmistress McGonagall for her portrait.”

The gargoyle leapt into action as she stepped onto the staircase and made her ascent. Her eyes were drawn to the portrait next to her old Headmaster’s as she entered the room.

“Severus,” she whispered, approaching the painting.

“Cleo,” the portrait smiled.

“I miss you,” she admitted.

“I regret not telling you this before I died,” it said with a half frown. “I love you.”

A sad smile appeared on her face as she looked into its painted eyes. “I know, I loved you too.”


End file.
